Aftermath
by Soyokaze
Summary: After Shikaisen's defeat, the spectre still haunts the Samurai, and threatens to take the life of one of their own. Somewhat SeijiTouma
1. I

Aftermath: Part I  
By Soyokaze  
  
He sat, and he watched. Or rather, he laid there and he watched. As he'd been doing until midnight for the past few nights. For the past week, as a matter of fact. It had been almost three months since Shikaisen's defeat, but mere days since the Kikoutei armor incident. All the troopers had been staying at Nasuti's, recuperating, preparing stories for concerned parents, and learning how to separate again. Every time they fought together, it became harder to let go, harder to realize they were letting their comrades out into a world that was safe, where they could live normally. Harder to believe the people they were closest to- each other- wouldn't be corpses with empty eyes the next time they met.  
  
Touma suspected that anxiety had only increased as a result of their latest adventures. Being separated, not knowing what was happening to his comrades, those were the times he was having nightmares about. He had the feeling what was keeping Seiji awake was much different.  
  
After Shikaisen's spirit dissipated under the Shiroi Kikoutei's flame, attention was immediately focused on Seiji. Touma remembered his own distress when Nasuti analyzed the fluid being pumped through Shikaisen's tubes into the pure, untainted embodiment of Grace that was the warrior of Korin as a hallucinogenic drug, and seeing Seiji collapse, and trembling expel his armor. Shin rushed forward and caught him, and they rushed him back to Shu's uncle's restaurant, where they could all rest. Seiji ate nothing, and drank only water for the next few days, trying desperately to purify his polluted body. Touma stayed with him the whole time, and took care of him, and reassured him that someone was there, that he wasn't alone.  
  
They had all been very worried. After such torture, such mental anguish as none of them had ever felt before- Touma often found himself shamefully thankful Seiji was the one to be Shikaisen's victim. His mind was very strong, stronger than all the rest as a result of the training and meditative exercises his grandfather forced him through. Shin, Ryo, Shu, or even he would have buckled under the mental pressure.  
  
As he watched Seiji in the bed next to his own, chest heaving as small breaths more like gasps escaped his lips, and his eyes shut tighter in pain or anger, he deeply regretted his thoughts. He remembered the previous morning.

------  
  
_"Where is Seiji?" Jun asked, bouncing up to the breakfast table. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence that went unnoticed by their young companion as the five occupants of the table considered who would answer. Ryo reasserted his role as the leader of the group by replying.  
  
"Seiji is still sleeping, Jun," he said over a forkful of eggs, trying to be nonchalant. "He'll be up soon."  
  
Jun looked puzzled. "Still sleeping? Seiji never sleeps this late!" The next second Jun became worried. "Is he okay?"  
  
"He's fine, Jun," Touma interjected, a little too quickly. Shin looked up at him, trying to meet his eyes but not succeeding. "There's nothing wrong."  
  
There was a moment of silence before Shin spoke up to cover it. "Shu, wasn't today the day you wanted to take Jun to visit his friend in Toyama?" he conveniently reminded his scatter-brained teammate. Shu looked up, stuffing his face before he stood. The look in his eyes told Shin he knew what the real purpose behind the statement was.  
  
"That's right!" the wearer of Kongo exclaimed with well-contrived enthusiasm. "Come on, Jun, we better get going. Run upstairs and get your stuff."  
  
Jun looked a little perturbed at having to leave again, especially in the midst of something he knew was important, but he brightened at the prospect of seeing a friend his age. He scampered around the corner and to the upper level of the house obediently. The second he was out of hearing range, Nasuti turned worriedly to Touma.  
  
"How is he, Touma?" she asked in a low voice. Tenku's bearer turned his eyes to the table.  
  
"Much worse." Faces fell around the table. "He has nightmares consistently, and I hear him cry out in his sleep for us, or cursing Shikaisen, or even for Luna. He can only rest peacefully while the sun is up."  
  
"While his element can protect him," Shin affirmed, and Touma nodded silently. Everyone was suddenly startled as Ryo's fist slammed into the wooden table, making the china clatter. All eyes turned to him as he calmly removed his hand from the spot he flawed in anger and folded his hands in front of him. His body was shaking with rage, and the temperature in the room began to rise slightly before Ryo reigned his emotions in with the barest amount of control.  
  
"I should go up and see him," he said, his voice trembling like his body. Shin put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Ryo, none of us want him to be alone in this," the warrior of Trust began, "but if anyone can even begin  
  
to speak to him about it, it should be Touma."  
  
Ryo looked at his teammate for a moment as if he meant to argue, but realized Shin was right. He sat back down calmly. "Touma, do you think you can get him to talk about it?"  
  
"You know Seiji. He'll deny everything." Touma rested his head on his hands. "I don't quite know how to-"  
  
Nasuti suddenly coughed very loudly, and sure enough two sets of footsteps were heard tumbling down the staircase. A second later, Jun and a perfectly kept Seiji came laughing into view. Jun held up his small duffle.  
  
"I'm ready, Shu!"  
  
Shu put on a smile for their young friend. "Okay, Jun, let's head out. Nasuti, can we take the bicycles down to the station?"  
  
"Sure, Shu," Nasuti said cheerfully. "Just don't crash like you did last time."  
  
Everyone gave a chuckle at that comment, even Seiji. Ryo took the time to observe Seiji, and sure enough there were faint half-circles under his eyes and a laxity in his normally eloquent movements. His normally bright amethyst eyes were noticeably dark; the problem had advanced past Seiji's ability to conceal it. One of them had to bring it up, especially before Seiji returned to his family._

_------  
_  
Before they were no longer able to do anything about it.  
  
Touma watched, waiting, not making a sound. Seiji turned over, and his hallucinations seemed to cease for a moment, but he could see his friend's brow still knit with fear. Touma fully understood the strength of the warrior of Korin, but it didn't change the fact that he seemed like a delicate porcelain doll in the moonlight, or that he had gone to visit a university in France just a few weeks ago, and all his teammates had been worried sick. After Seiji's last international endeavor, Ryo, Touma, Shin, Shu, and Nasuti made it quite clear that they would follow him to Paris if he didn't call them every other day. He did so with a cheerful disposition, understanding their concern, and even appreciating it. When he returned, safe and sound and intact, the relief flooding the airport terminal was tangible.  
  
Touma would have smiled at the memory had Seiji not jerked upright in his bed. His amethyst eyes were wide in fear, and his hands explored his bare arms; Touma suspected he was still expecting tubes invading his skin. Touma closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep as Seiji glanced about the room. Now in darkness, Touma found he was frustrated he couldn't see what was going on as he heard movement. Suddenly he heard the resounding click of the window opening, and felt a brief breeze. Then it shut again.  
  
Touma practically leapt out of his bed and looked through the window to see where his friend had gone. He caught a glimpse of Seiji entering the forest, and slid the window back open. The warrior of Tenku stepped easily and nimbly out onto the shingled roof and shut the window behind him. He landed soundlessly on the lawn, taking quick, measured steps towards forest.  
  
The trees, to Touma's amazement, seemed to soundlessly part for him. He imagined the forest knew its caretaker was in distress. Whether a trick of the wind or a trick of the element, Touma was glad because it let him reach Seiji all the faster.  
  
He slowed as he recognized Seiji's figure. Through the other side of the forest the lake was visible, silvery, reflecting the moonlight. Seiji was standing beside a thick, aged tree which looked as if it had weathered more than its fair share of storms. Touma watched in shadow as his friend reached out a hand to touch the bark of the old tree, more as he would hold his hand out to a suffering friend. The wind blew softly through the branches of the trees, as if they were speaking. Seiji withdrew his hand, looking suddenly more distraught than he ever had in Touma's memory. Then Touma noticed the hilt of a knife protruding from the tree's trunk. Seiji wrapped his fingers around it resolutely, in a calculated manner, and pulled it out.  
  
Then the warrior of Korin and his best friend placed the sharp tip of the dagger at his heart.  
  
"Seiji!" Touma exclaimed as Seiji lifted the blade in preparation to bury it in his chest. Touma knocked the weapon away from his stunned friend. It was a moment of fury and panic on Touma's part, a movement made in haste and desperation in a heated state of mind, but which left only silent stillness as Seiji stared at Touma in shock and fear.  
  
"T-Touma?" Seiji could only stammer as Touma took him by the shoulders and shook him with a bit more force than he should have.  
  
"What are you doing, Seiji?" he shouted, in disbelief and anger. Seiji's eyes were full of a fear and a longing that scared his friend, and he was angry that he could not understand, that he could not make Seiji tell him what was wrong, and how he could help. Seiji's violet eyes widened, but then they narrowed, and for a moment Touma was frightened he was going to pass out. He fell to his knees, and it seemed as if his body was no longer supported by the strong spirit the Samurai knew so well. Touma fell with him, trying to hold him upright, and Seiji welcomed his companionship, seizing his arms as he trembled. Then Touma realized Seiji was crying.  
  
"Why didn't you let me do it?" he sobbed, falling against Touma in utter hopelessness. "Why wouldn't you just let me do it, Touma?"  
  
"Seiji!" he said, surprised, wrapping his arms around a body in which he could scarcely feel a will. Seiji was collapsing. "Seiji, please, we're here to help you. Just tell me what's wrong-"  
  
"No, you can't," he interrupted softly. "None of you can help me this time."  
  
Touma inhaled sharply. "Tell me what's wrong, Seiji. Please."  
  
"It's useless. Please just let me do this, Touma-"  
  
"I will not," Touma cut him off sharply. Seiji leaned into him, and for a moment Touma thought he really had lost consciousness. But then he spotted Seiji's pale hand reaching for the dagger a few inches away. He grabbed hold of his friend's wrist in alarm. "Stop it, Seiji!"  
  
"Let go!" he shouted, and pulled away. "Touma, there's nothing you can do! I need to deal with the problem on my own!" The warrior of Wisdom took hold of his friend's wrists again, if only to prevent him from running off. "Let go of me!"  
  
"Tell me what's wrong!"  
  
"Shikaisen is inside me, Touma!" Seiji shouted hoarsely, meeting Touma's blue gaze with glassy eyes. "When Ryo burned him to death, he bound himself to me! Now he's eating out my heart, little by little, until he can use my body and Korin to kill you all!" Seiji relaxed suddenly, the calm after the storm, a new set of tears coming. "I won't let him, Touma. I won't." He paused. "But I can't fight him anymore."  
  
Touma didn't know what to say. He had no experience battling with possessions; none of them had. They'd been lucky enough to avoid any spirits invading them, but Shikaisen could easily have used Korin to get to Seiji. Maybe the warlords-  
  
"Kayura, Seiji!" he exclaimed, amazed the warrior of Grace had not thought of her before. "She drove out Badamon. She could be able to help you."  
  
"Touma, Shuten died to save her from Badamon," Seiji replied in a heavy voice. "I will not have anyone die for me."  
  
"We will not have you die."  
  
Seiji looked up at him, grateful, as rain began to fall mistily from the sky. Touma wrapped an arm around Seiji's shoulders, urging him to stand up. "Let's go back to the house."  
  
Instantly, Seiji protested. "No! I'll endanger everyone!"  
  
"Seiji, we must tell the others-"  
  
"No, Touma! You don't understand!"  
  
"Seiji," Touma said with authority, silencing his comrade and coaxing him forward. "You are strong. You know that. Shikaisen won't overtake you."  
  
"Touma-" the warrior of Korin began, but he never finished his sentence. Seiji froze, as if someone had just shot him through the middle with a gun.  
  
"Seiji!" Touma said in horror as Seiji's eyes slid closed and he was forced to strengthen his grip to keep his friend from falling. "Seiji!" he called, but Seiji did not answer. "Seiji! _Seiji!_"  
  
And a familiar evil laughter echoed in the trees that swayed around them.


	2. II

Aftermath: Part II  
By Soyokaze  
  
"Nasuti! Ryo!"  
  
The house's occupants were awakened by frantic shouting from outside. Someone was pounding on the front door as hard as the rain outside pounded on the earth and the lightning crashed overhead. Nasuti, having the only downstairs room, drew a robe around her and hurried to answer. She flipped on the hall light, and a silhouette appeared through the curtains over the door.  
  
"Oh no-" she ran to the door and flung it open to reveal Touma holding an unconscious Seiji, both of them soaked through to the bone. "Touma! Come inside, hurry-" She stood aside so he could get through to the living room. "Ryo! Shu! Shin!" She screamed, stopping at a linen closet for a few blankets. Upstairs lights flew on. As Touma laid Seiji down on one of the couches, Ryo's dark head peered around the corner.  
  
"What's-" He paused and his eyes widened. "Touma! What happened to you guys?!" Nasuti stepped forward, laying a clean blanket on Seiji and one on Touma's shoulders, which he took little notice of. As Ryo stepped forward into the room, Shin and Shu appeared behind him, worried looks on their faces. As four concerned friends surrounded Touma and Seiji, Touma remained silent. He wrapped the blanket around himself, nodding in thanks to Nasuti, and let his eyes rest on Seiji.  
  
"Touma-" Shin began softly, his voice strained with concern. "Touma, what's wrong with him? He- he isn't..."

Even as Touma's eyes watched Seiji's chest move slowly up and down, he replied to Shin with a heavy heart.

"I don't know, Shin."

------

Ryo helped Touma to get Seiji upstairs to the room they shared and into some dry clothes. Touma was silent, his eyes darkened with something that struck him deeply; Ryo did not have the heart to further question his friend about what had happened to affect him so profoundly. Ryo only left wordlessly, so Touma could change into dry clothing himselff, and headed down the hall and back down the stairs to rejoin the others.

Shu was the one whose head snapped up as soon as he came out into the den. "Did he tell you what happened? How's Seiji? What did-" Shu was up in and instant, and would have been across the room in a second, his eyes focused on getting answers, if it were not for Shin's soft touch on his arm. Shu sat back down on the sofa, still looking apprehensive. Ryo sighed despondently.

"Touma didn't say a word to me. I think he- he might be in shock, a little," Ryo speculated.

"Perhaps it was a personal matter. If it was, we shouldn't press him," Shin remarked kind-heartedly, but everyone could tell he was just as torn up as they were. Shu was tapping his fists together nervously. Ryo could tell he was ready to burst with anger at whatever had harmed his friends.  
  
After casting meaningful glances to all his companions, as befitted a leader such as himself, Ryo settled down next to Nasuti and folded his hands resolutely on his knees. It seemed to the young woman next to him that he was surrendering to whatever force had determined Seiji would have a short life. Nasuti reached over to the young man she loved like a little brother and placed her hand atop his, smiling comfortingly despite her own inner turmoil. Ryo returned her smile, though his thoughts were still with the two young men upstairs.  
  
Touma had long since been done changing, and was dry except for his damp hair. Instead of heading downstairs, he had settled into a bedside chair, watching his friend across from him much like he had the previous night. Seiji was still breathing evenly, but when Touma tried to reach out, mentally, to his friend, as he did a great deal in battle, he came up against a solid wall. He could not tell what Seiji was feeling, what he was thinking, whether or not he was still the warrior of Grace they knew. Whether or not Shikaisen had destroyed him yet.  
  
Touma was more frightened than he had ever been in his life.

------

Ryo looked up as he heard footsteps on the stairs. "Touma!" he said, with a good deal more eagerness than he meant to. Touma met his eyes, and looked around as if in a daze. Shu was watching him with barely contained anxiety, while Ryo and Nasuti were a little more successful at hiding their feelings.  
  
"Where's Shin?" he asked softly. Ryo gestured towards the kitchen.  
  
"He's making breakfast," Ryo said, and then shut his mouth quickly. Touma knew the question he was keeping checked. Shin then appeared in the archway of the dining room, wiping his hands with a dish towel.  
  
"Touma, how are you?" he asked softly, hesitantly.  
  
"I'll be fine, Shin," he replied. Again, he realized they wanted him to continue.  
  
He didn't know if he could.  
  
"I'm sorry guys," he apologized, accepting their nodded acknowledgments. Touma walked over to the couch and plopped down next to Shu, suddenly realizing how tired he was. The sun was barely visible over the trees out the window, and the sky was still dark. Touma guessed Shin was only cooking to try and return some semblance of normalcy to the house again, or just to give himself something to do, to occupy his mind. Touma inhaled with resolve. "Seiji was having nightmares again."  
  
Everyone leaned forward anxiously, and Touma could see tears of stress and anticipation in Nasuti's eyes. "They woke him up and he- he just left, out the window. I followed him out there, and-" Touma paused. "He tried to kill himself."  
  
Eyes widened, Nasuti covered her mouth in horror, and Shin gasped. "Seiji- Seiji tried to kill himself?"  
  
"He thought he was protecting us. Let me explain," Touma quickly interjected, before they drew the wrong conclusions. "Seiji told me Shikaisen was inside him."  
  
"Shikaisen?" Ryo repeated in alarm. "But I-"  
  
"Yes, you killed him. We thought we didn't have to worry about him anymore." Touma folded his arms, for the first time in this incident feeling a raging anger arise in him. "But I think he used Korin to get to Seiji in spirit, and he's been clawing at Seiji's soul ever since we came back from New York. He was going to kill Seiji on the inside and then use his armor to kill all of us."  
  
"This has been happening for that long?" Nasuti whispered in amazement.  
  
Touma nodded to her. "He told me he couldn't fight it anymore."  
  
Ryo's eyes moved to the floor, melancholic. "He was going to kill himself to avoid hurting us." Tiger blue suddenly pierced Touma's heart. "Touma, I'm very, very grateful you were out there tonight."  
  
"I am, too, Ryo," Touma replied in soul-wrenching truth. "I don't know what's happened to make him like this, but it has something to do with Shikaisen. We'll just have to wait and see if he wakes up."  
  
"When," corrected Shin painfully, leaning against the arched doorway of the dining room, his eyes closed against what was happening around him. "When."  
  
"And we'll have to hope he doesn't try to kill us," Shu remarked solemnly.  
  
Everyone else in the room gravely nodded.

------

Breakfast passed silently, as did the three breakfasts, lunches, and dinners afterwards. The evening of the third day found Touma in his room, seated in the bedside chair, where he had been spending a good deal of his time for the past days. Seiji slept peacefully, probably the best sleep he'd gotten in the last few weeks, but one he might not wake up from.  
  
Shin had busily prepared each meal for them, not asking anyone to help him, and not expecting anyone to offer. He liked to cook after all, and it was something to keep him occupied. Shu could keep his cool as long as he never spent more than five minutes in the room with Seiji; he broke down if he looked longer. Ryo and Nasuti were somber. Ryo was given to occasional fits of unchecked rage and Nasuti was given to abrupt spells of secret tears. The household was not a happy one, but they managed, and kept regular turns watching over their ailing friend, for in case he woke up, they did not want to miss it.  
  
Touma's hand moved to the bed, where it found Seiji's thin, pale fingers and held them. Touma started, jerking as if he'd been burned; Seiji's hand was ice-cold. His hand moved to Seiji's face, where his skin was just as lifeless. Yet still he breathed.  
  
There was hope.  
  
Downstairs everyone was going about their normal routine, trying to forget there was a second level to the house. Shin was getting his coat out of the hall closet, preparing for a trip to town, when a knock came at the door. Shin slid the other sleeve of his jacket over his arm and then went to the door, seeing a silhouette that was strangely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He twisted the doorknob and swung the door open a crack, and peeked out. A small stab of fright pierced his heart, but it was an old impulse that needed only a little more time to die.  
  
"Anubis!" he said in welcome, suddenly very glad to see a happy face. Anubis, dressed in a simple jacket, tee shirt and slacks, was smiling amicably, and nodded a welcome. "Come in. I'm afraid we might be a little somber today."  
  
"I know," he said and for a moment his voice was heavy with something between sorrow and disappointment. The next second the emotion faded, slowly. "Call me Kujuurou, Shin. Everyone else does."  
  
Shin smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Kujuurou. I just keep forgetting."  
  
"It's all right, Shin," Kujuurou, formerly known as Anubis, Yami Masho, had easily passed out his real name after he cleared himself of the taint Arago bestowed upon him. The Masho and Kayura had actually been to visit the Samurai quite frequently, and in some cases become acquainted with their families. It was actually quite comforting for the Samurai to learn of the Masho's pasts, their own families, their hopes for the future of the world, which were not unlike the Troopers' own, and to find they had just as harrowing a job in the Youjakai as the Troopers had in the human world. It was not uncommon for the former rivals to share a dinner or a sparring match.  
  
Kujuurou followed Shin into the living room, to see Ryo and Shu lazily looking at the television but flipping the channels so fast they couldn't have been watching any of them, and Nasuti at the dining table, papers spread out around her and a thick book on some ancient language beside her. They all looked up as the pair walked in, and their faces lit up in welcome and a small amount of surprise.  
  
"Hello, Kujuurou!" Nasuti said in greeting, standing from her post at the dinner table. "What brings you here?"  
  
"Seiji," he replied, softly. "I can't feel him anymore."  
  
Immediately everyone knew what he meant. The Samurai of the Light and the Masho of the Darkness were the only polar opposites between the ten warriors. After Anubis became Kujuurou Sasaki again, the two found they could sense each other quite well; it came with being the soldiers responsible for keeping the universal balance between good and evil. Kujuurou and Seiji had duties on the universal scale, and thus had a deep, ingrained bond. It proved useful; whenever one was in some peril, the other could rush to his or his friends' aid.  
  
Which was precisely what had happened now.  
  
"Where is he?" Kujuurou asked, not looking unduly worried, but curiously concerned. Ryo nodded and stood, moving past the dark warrior.  
  
"Upstairs," he replied solemnly and lead Kujuurou up the stairway.


	3. III

Aftermath: Part III

By Soyokaze

Touma nearly jumped when the door opened, but he easily recovered before those entering could see his upset state. He was slightly surprised when Ryo entered far too early to take his turn, but even more surprised when the former Yami Masho entered behind him. His first instinct was to take a protective stance in defense of his half-dead friend, but he quickly reminded himself those days were long past, and scolded himself for being so paranoid.

Kujuurou paused as he viewed the figure sleeping on the bed. His face remained passive, aside from the barest tinge of surprise, but his dark eyes were filled with an emotion not unlike concern.

"How long has he been like this?" the former Masho inquired. Ryo answered as Touma relaxed again in the seat by the bed.

"About three days."

The Yami Masho's surprise increased. "I wonder why I was unable to sense it before-"

"Shikaisen," Touma answered quickly. "Whatever is wrong in this situation, it's Shikaisen's doing."

Kujuurou moved to the other side of the bed and pulled a chair from the desk in the corner. Sitting down in it, he moved himself even closer to the bed than Touma was. Ryo and Touma watched him in wonder; they knew he was preparing to do something, and it made hope soar high in their hearts.

"Kujuurou, what are you going to do?" Ryo asked him. Kujuurou took Seiji's ice cold hand, not looking shocked at its corpse-like feel.

"There are people in the Youjakai who can travel into people's souls when they need guidance," he explained vaguely. "I am a mage of that sort." Touma's and Ryo's eyebrows rose. A tiny but uplifting smile formed on Kujuurou's lips. "I believe this time Seiji requires someone to be his light and lead him from the darkness."

Touma and Ryo watched him, hope surfacing in their eyes as he laid his head slowly down on the bed and closed his eyes.

But their alarm grew strong again when they realized they could feel his presence no better than they could feel Seiji's.

------

It was dark. That was the first thing Kujuurou noticed. It was darker than his own magic, with only a small sliver of something like the moon shining down; the stars, if there had been any, had all gone out. He felt perfectly at home in such an eerie setting, and with his element enveloping him he barely noticed the icy wind scraping roughly across his face-

-and that was when he noticed he was no longer wearing the street clothes he arrived at the Yagyu manor in. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to be in the ancient robes, which was probably why he hadn't noticed it at first, but he found it curious that Seiji's subconscious would dress him this way. All the former Masho dressed like this when they were not fighting in the Youjakai.

Kujuurou walked forwards, towards the spot where the dim moonlight seemed strongest. He needed a focus, because he would not be able to use any active magic while he roamed about Seiji's soul, and his possibility of getting lost was high as long as Seiji was as he was. He reached the small halo of the moonlight, and did not have to look far to find what he was searching for.

Seiji was there, sitting on his heels, his knees touched by the silver light. He was mostly in shadow. The Korin Ken sat in front of him, its blade shining benevolently. Seiji did not look eighteen; he looked a few years younger, with eyes less sharp and a rigid posture obviously meant to please any teachers that might come along. He was dressed oddly, as well, in a swordsman's proper Japanese costume. The kimono hung about him in a haphazard way, and his face was devoid of any hope or happiness, eyes focused upon the sword in front of him.

"Seiji," Kujuurou said, softly, so not to disturb the delicate balance of the psyche. Seiji's head snapped up, but his fear disappeared and turned to relief when he saw who it was there to see him.

"Kujuurou," he said in a quiet, younger voice. Kujuurou went over and knelt by him, taking his hand, as he used to do with his own little brother so many years ago.

"Seiji, you have to come out of this," he coaxed, forgetting the boy in front of him had just as much intelligence and maturity as the Seiji he knew in the real world. He frowned.

"Kujuurou, I can't. I'll risk everyone." Kujuurou began to protest, but Seiji interrupted him. "Listen."

Kujuurou paused, and listened. In the dead silence of their surroundings, a sound arose. It was a heavy, ominous clanking, far from them, but still clear. Kujuurou thought for a moment, listening to its familiar rhythm, when he realized to what he was listening. "Korin," he breathed, and Seiji nodded.

"When it reaches me, it will take up its sword and kill me. Shikaisen will have control." Kujuurou looked at the sword between them, cursing it as he had long ago when it rose against him. "You should be able to escape unharmed, if you leave quickly. Shikaisen probably already knows you have an armor, and he will not let you leave once he has full control." The young boy before the Yami Masho looked at him with all the seriousness of far beyond his years. "Kujuurou, if I die and Shikaisen awakens, you have to promise me you will kill my body."

Kujuurou was solemn. He knew his counterpart was asking him to kill his possessed body because none of his friends would be able to do it properly. His friends would only defend against his possessed attacks in hopes of bringing him back. Seiji grew impatient. "You are the only one I can trust to do it, Kujuurou. They imagine my dying is the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but I can tell you if I killed my best friends it would be much worse for me."

"Seiji, I promise you I'll do it," Kujuurou admitted him curtly. Seiji looked a great deal relieved. "But we will find some way to stop this while we can. I'll go out now and speak to them, all right?"

Seiji nodded, understanding that Kujuurou had a duty to the others as the only one privy to information from him now, and watched as the Yami Masho stood and faded away, leaving him with a gleaming sword and an old friend who was aiming to take his life.

------

Kujuurou awoke not with a start but as he would from any normal sleep. The place where his fingers and Seiji's met was very warm, but the alive-ness of that warmth was fading fast. As Kujuurou stood up and saw Touma's and Ryo's hearts revealed through hope-brightened eyes, he wished they could have felt it as well. They watched him move expectantly as he leaned back in the chair, rubbing strained eyes.

"He has severed ties with everything in this world," Kujuurou explained. "Korin, the forest, light- the only reason he doesn't die is that he's still worried for you guys. He's made his soul empty, so he can hide in the darkness. In fact," Kujuurou continued, "I think he's made it convenient for him to die."

"Kuso!" Ryo shouted, clenching his fists so hard he drew blood. "Seiji-"

And in Ryo's mind grew a memory that he made not long ago, one that had been passing through his mind since Touma had shown up with an unconscious Seiji on that rainy night. He and Seiji were laying in the tall grass of the African savanna at midnight, and he was shaking Seiji awake, direly afraid he was gone. Seiji awoke and tapped him roughly on the shoulder, their subarmors making a comforting clank against each other.

_Nothing to worry about. I wouldn't let you go alone. _

"Calm down, Ryo," Touma said in his quiet, tranquil manner. His words seemed to have a power over his friend, and Ryo, rather than punching the wall beside him, buried his head in his hands and slumped against it. He slid down to the floor, and rage practically fell in waves over the floor around him.

"Touma, go tell the others," Ryo sighed, not as an order, not as a leader to a subordinate, but a request, from a friend to a friend. Touma stood and silently obliged.

A moment of silence passed.

"Is there anything we can do, Kujuurou?"

"Everything is uncertain, Ryo."

"You don't know?"

Kujuurou sighed. "Well, Shikaisen cannot simply bind himself to Seiji because he knows so much about the Korin yoroi. He has to be preying on something, a similar facet of the soul, a shared emotion," Kujuurou leaned forward, propping his arms on the bed. "But I don't know what that could be."

"I don't know what we can do, if anything," Touma finished, Shin, Shu, and Nasuti sitting attentively around him. They all knew what the situation was forecasting; surrender, and a loss. Nasuti stood.

"I'm going to do all the research I can on Shikaisen," she announced. "After we got back from New York, I never really had any desire to find out more about him, but I think it may help the situation."

"And I'll help, Nasuti," Shin said eagerly, jumping up from the couch and looking anxious to be of some use. Shu remained, sitting dejectedly on the couch. His hands were folded neatly on the table top, something that did not happen often. Touma had a sudden impulse to reach over to him and provide him with some semblance of warmth, the same kind of comfort he wished he could give to Seiji as well. Shu was the one of them truly lost here; Nasuti had her research, Touma had his logic, Ryo had his compassion as their leader, and Shin had his silent companionship, which he continued to offer to everyone. Shu had only ever dealt with conflicts through brute strength, and had in fact gravely injured Seiji once as a result of it, but this was something intangible, something he could not grasp at or control. Shu had no outlet through which to deal with the situation properly; he was lost.

"You know, Touma," Shu said quietly, as if he heard his comrade's thoughts. "This time, I'm really scared. And the worst thing is that I'm not scared of Seiji dying. I'm scared of us having to kill him." Touma nodded silently at him, and Shu must have taken it as a chastisement. "I know I'm being damn selfish, but I would rather he just pass quietly than us having to help him along."

"It's not selfish, Shu," his blue-haired friend replied. "That's what I want, too." Shu was silent. Touma stood up wordlessly, and left the room, thinking if he said anything else, he would probably make Shu angry. He left his comrade to deal with his emotions himself, and Touma doubted if even Shin would be of any help to him this time.


	4. IV

Aftermath: Part IV

By Soyokaze

"Just let me speak to him! I could do it, Kujuurou!"

When Touma opened the door to the bedroom he and Seiji shared, he walked into an argument. Both Kujuurou and Ryo were standing up, taking posts on either side of the bed like opposing soldiers on the front lines. As Touma walked in, both heads snapped his way, one pair of eyes blazing and one pair calm.

"What are you two arguing about?" he asked dazedly. Ryo pointed accusingly at Kujuurou, and Touma immediately thought to himself that the argument was probably simply a way for Ryo to burn off excessive anger. The moon was high in the sky now; it was nearly midnight. Touma's spirits suddenly rose as he realized what a beautiful night it was, and how he wished Seiji was there to share it with him.

Touma started as he realized the implications of his thoughts.

"Kujuurou refuses to believe that I could go into Seiji's soul like he did!" Ryo was not shouting, but the magnitude of his anger was clearly carried over in his tone. Kujuurou looked a great deal more composed.

"I am only looking out for him. If he goes in there, he could be trapped. Shikaisen studied the Rekka before." Kujuurou's point was a great deal more logical. Ryo turned on him.

"I have to be able to do... something!"

Touma calmly walked over to Ryo and put both hands on his shoulders. Ryo looked him in the eye, still radical with fury. "Ryo, we all wish we could do something."

"But I-"

And in a bold move, Touma interrupted him. "If you think you can do it, Ryo, do it. But think of all the consequences before you do."

Ryo simply stared at him for a moment, before shaking loose of his hands. The leader of the Samurai turned away from his comrade, towards the bed, where his dying friend lay. Seiji's breathing was very slow, and almost coarse, and his heartbeats short, but rhythmic. Ryo's eyes suddenly glassed over, as if all the anger inside him was threatening to use his tears as an escape.

Outside, as it had three nights ago, rain began to fall.

Ryo threw himself into the chair where Touma had been keeping a semi-constant vigil for the past three days, seizing Seiji's hand like a lifeline. Both Touma and Kujuurou called out his name, but he collapsed onto the bed, unconscious. Touma went to separate their hands, but Kujuurou stopped him.

"Don't!" Kujuurou grabbed at their joined hands forcefully, pressing them closer together where Touma had tried to break them apart. "If you break the physical bond, Ryo will be unable to get back to his own body!"

Touma recoiled as if he'd been burned. He didn't want to be left with two lifeless shells for friends. If Ryo could do any good inside of Seiji's soul, he would rather Rekka did his part quickly and returned to them. This type of magic was a magic Ryo had absolutely no experience with.

"How did he do this?" Touma inquired. "We've never made use of magic even close to this. I wouldn't know how to do it if I tried. How did he learn it so quickly?"

Kujuurou frowned, watching Ryo's breathing pattern closely. "It was a fluke, at my best guess. He felt the way my own magic was acting, and imitated it. The bond you five share only made it easier for him." Kujuurou sat back down in the chair he had risen from in anger. "We must be careful now. Ryo should be able to exit as well as he entered, but his hastiness could still cost him dear."

Touma stood by Ryo, slumped as he was in the chair, and waited.

------

Seiji's subconscious was not much different for Ryo than it had been for Kujuurou. It was still dark, and still barely lit by the dim moon, but when Ryo looked down at himself, he was wearing the old, traditional armor of a shogun. Feeling a familiar weight at his back, he reached back and touched the hilt of one of twin katana. The added burden of his weapon of choice was comforting, to say the least. If something unexpected happened, he would at least have the capacity to defend himself adequately.

He stepped forward, towards the small circle of light created by the moon, as Kujuurou had done. His armor moved around him, and made short, quiet noises which echoed in the black emptiness. And those echoes were accompanied by something else, something much more sinister.

"Ryo!" came a soft call, and Ryo saw Seiji sitting half covered in darkness. He was no longer the child he had been for the former Yami Masho, but the eighteen year old young man Ryo knew, still slightly shorter than him, but the proper age. Another thing which comforted Ryo. It seemed as though Seiji was becoming his old self again. Seiji rushed forward, illuminating himself in the moonlight; he was a deathly pale, and looked like a ghost in the pure white samurai garb his soul dressed him in. He looked aghast, and the solace Ryo was feeling faded quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to help you, Seiji," Ryo said, as if it were obvious. Seiji put both hands on either of his shoulders.

"You have to leave, now!" Ryo began to protest, but Seiji interrupted him. "Ryo, Shikaisen already knows about your armor, and he'll trap you here if you stay much longer!"

The echoes that came not from Ryo and Seiji became louder and more hurried. Seiji started as he realized that by revealing himself in the light, he made it all the more easy for Korin to find him. The warrior of light looked behind him at the forlorn Korin Ken, resolute.

"Ryo, you should leave now," Seiji continued, "before you get hurt."

Ryo's anger flared again. "Seiji, it's my job to make sure you come back from this!" Seiji looked skeptically at him. "If I can't bring you back with me, I'll die here with you!"

"Listen to what you're saying!" Seiji said, shaking him. "I was dead the minute I stepped on the plane that would take me to New York. You have to live for the others!"

"The circle will be broken! Without you, we'll never be the same!"

"Have we been the same, Ryo?" Seiji suddenly asked, as the echoes grew so loud they seemed to consume the whole place. "Have we been the same since I attacked Touma and Shu? Have we been the same since I endangered Nasuti and Jun? Have we been the same since I killed that girl?"

And behind Seiji, a dim memory flickered in the darkness, a memory of a Seiji who never existed taking Luna and running her through with the Korin Ken.

Seiji was calm, as he always was. His speech was not broken, his words were not harsh. In his eyes, tears were gathering, but he maintained his composure. Of course, Ryo thought. Luna. That was what Shikaisen was praying on. Not his guilt at attacking his comrades; that was something they could reconcile themselves. Shikaisen was the one who had killed Luna, and he had manipulated Seiji's guilt until Seiji believed he himself killed her.

"Seiji," Ryo said briskly, spinning Seiji around to face it, "this never happened. This would never happen. You know you would never do this."

"I don't remember half the things I did under Shikaisen's control," Seiji admitted tearfully, and Ryo spun him back around and looked into his eyes.

"Have you forgotten that it was Korin, and not you, who did those things?" Seiji simply looked at him in wonder, all the fighting and struggling of the past days- no, the past weeks- finally coming to a peak inside him. "Seiji, you would never, ever hurt any living being. I know that, and you do, too. Tell me you do, Seiji."

"I killed her, Ryo," Seiji whispered, and Ryo sighed. He did not let go of his friend, for Korin was drawing close, and Seiji was in no condition to defend himself against it. "I'm sorry. I know you loved her very much." Another manipulation. Ryo identified with Luna, was empathic towards her; he'd only known her a matter of hours, how could he have fallen in love with her?

Instead of speaking again, he concentrated, very hard, on ridding himself of the anger he felt towards Shikaisen. Then, concentrating equally hard, he worked to conjure up every detail of Luna's death, every facet of the memory he kept within himself, and fought off the sorrow that rose in his heart as he remembered. And as he concentrated, the image appeared behind him, flickering in the dark. Seiji's eyes widened as he watched Luna attack Shikaisen, and then saw Shikaisen- _Shikaisen_- cut her down ruthlessly.

After the colors had faded into darkness again, Seiji met Ryo's gaze, his violet eyes shocked with realization. Ryo was smiling, softly.

"That's what really happened, Seiji," he said gently. "It was all Shikaisen's doing."

"But- I didn't-" Seiji was confused, sorrowful, but, deep inside himself, relieved. The moon above them brightened ever so slightly. "I'm so sorry, Ryo-"

Ryo almost laughed. "What are you sorry for?"

"Just- just everything," Seiji had a small smile on his lips as well. "For doubting you. Shikaisen actually had me convinced that no one was coming for me, that I was on my own." Ryo felt a pang of guilt at that; how they had all been so obsessed with finding Nasuti and Jun that Seiji momentarily slipped their minds. "I wish- _Ryo!_" Suddenly Seiji flung them both to the ground, and Ryo heard a loud cracking noise. As he looked up from his position on the ground behind Seiji, he saw a giant crater in the ground where they had previously been standing. The green armor of Korin stood above it, arms outstretched, helmet holding a dark mass of shadow. Seiji turned to him. "Leave now!"

"No!"

They rolled to the side again, evaded another lightning strike, lightning which failed to pierce the impenetrable darkness around them, but would in an instant incinerate their bodies. Seiji kept himself in front of Ryo, and anger rose in Ryo again as he realized Seiji was shielding him. He grabbed Seiji by the arm and threw him aside, stunning him sufficiently.

As Seiji slid to a stop a few feet from him, Ryo saw the armor of Korin standing above him, hands raised, and heard Seiji cry out his name. Everything slowed down as he reached for his katana, but he knew he would not draw them in time. Green lightning gathered at the armor's fingertips, and Ryo felt the heat of the blow before it hit him-

-and then heard the clank of armor hitting the ground as a half of Korin landed on either side of him.

Seiji stood behind Korin, holding the Korin Ken towards the ground, in a post-attack stance. He looked shocked at himself; and Ryo quickly pieced together what had happened. Seiji took up the sword and sliced through Korin before it could let loose its lightning blow. Seiji peeled his left hand from the hilt of the Korin Ken, and Ryo saw burns on his fingers where he had held it; the sword protested against his touch.

But most surprising was the hissing mist Korin freed as it parted. The mist gathered behind Seiji, as Ryo stood and rushed over the carnage of battle to his side. Slowly, but surely, it became the deformed, aged, grotesque figure of Shikaisen. His eyes burned red with fury.

Ryo and Seiji stood before him, watching his anger rise, and ready for any adversary he could conjure, but none came. Only a high-pitched scream of rage and wrath which echoed deafeningly about the place, as Shikaisen began to deteriorate back into smoke. The skin of his ghost form writhed and melted, forming again the mist from which he came. It hissed and crackled as he disintegrated, the mist floating into the sky, like the lost evils of Atlantis to the top of the sea, or the steam as rain hits a sunned pavement.

Seiji collapsed.

Ryo caught him, but the Korin Ken clattered to the ground. "Seiji! Seiji!" Abruptly, the moon above them went out, but still a light glowed in this dark alcove of Seiji's soul. It was the Korin Ken. And it grew brighter and brighter, until it lit up all the darkness. Ryo did not know what to think. He felt himself fading.


	5. V

Aftermath: Part V

By Soyokaze

"Seiji!" Ryo woke with a start, very unlike Kujuurou, and bolted upright in his chair. A thunderclap sounded as rain pounded on the glass windows. Touma would have jumped in surprise, had his eyes not been focused on something else.

Above the bed was floating that same cloud of dark mist that wanted to form Shikaisen's body. Ryo imagined he was so angry at being driven out that he could no longer logically form himself out of the many particles of him floating about. He writhed in anger above Seiji's prone body, which Ryo now realized Kujuurou was covering with a shield, preventing him from reentering. Shin, Nasuti, and Shu were drawn upstairs with the cacophony, and now stood at the open door, gaping at the sight before them.

Shikaisen just floated above them and screeched his rage out, unintelligibly cursing the warrior of Korin and all his friends. As he gradually began to reform and they saw the Shikaisen that was becoming real again in front of them, Ryo thought back on their battle before, his Rekka aura lighting a fire around his body despite the coldness of the storm outside. Shikaisen's writhing eyes turned to him, formidably wrathful, and his blotched lips formed a less than perfect sound:

"Power."

Ryo heard him, through the garbled mess, heard with his mind as well as his ears. The temperature in the room rose by degrees at a time as his aura intensified in the relatively small room, and a smirk twitched the corners of his lips.

"Come get it," was what he said, scoffing at the rogue spirit.

Shikaisen screeched in anger, hurting the ears of all present, and his spirit slammed against Ryo's extended aura with a surprising amount of pull. There was a slight hint of green in the aura of his disfigured spirit; Ryo's anger intensified as he realized that Shikaisen was using Seiji's stolen power to fight against him. His own power spread further, the two auras beating against each other like the waves against the craggy rocks on the shore. The conflicting powers made an almost audible hum as they fought each other, Shikaisen obviously struggling to possess Ryo and maintain his body at the same time.

The warrior of Rekka looked around him as he poured his power into the atmosphere, seeing the faces of Shin and Nasuti looking worriedly on Seiji, Kujuurou's shield protecting all three of them, and Shu and Touma watching his battle with courage and determination in their eyes; their will reached out to him strongly as their kanji shone bright on their brows.

It was his job to protect them all. That was why he existed. He protected those he loved with all his heart and his mind, and his power was a result of that. The Rekka was a symbol of the heart.

Shikaisen existed to take over the armors, to take over his friends; after he had killed Seiji from the inside out, he would probably move on to Shin or Touma, and break them down as well. Shin's compassion and Touma's logic, the very tools by which they dealt with their losses, would make them prime targets for Shikaisen's rage. Shu may not have been very sharp of mind, but he had the will to resist Shikaisen to the very last; his hard-head would make it difficult, but the spirit would win over them all in the end if something was not done. Ryo knew that he was not going to stand by and watch while this demon spirit invaded their bodies and stole their very souls from him. He was not going to let Shikaisen erode their carefully, sturdily sculpted circle so easily. Ryo took one last breath, absorbing the power of his comrades about him, and let it explode in a fiery wave on his foe.

The spirit fought him, his own power blazing in a pillar of green mixed with the light of his ghostly form, and the room around them was hardly visibly any more. The light engulfed everything but the shadows of the figures in the room, and the two warring forces that stood in the center of the vortex of power. But to those who observed, it was clear who would emerge the victor.

Shikaisen let out one last piercing scream before Ryo's power overwhelmed him, burning him into oblivion. The Rekka aura took only a moment to subside, but left in its wake a singed carpet and burn marks on Nasuti's walls, for which Ryo would later be apologizing profusely. But no Shikaisen. Not even a trace, they all quickly made sure of that. The spirit was dead, finally.

The silence was deafening. Kujuurou waited a few moments before letting down his shield. Shin and Nasuti stepped forward to the foot of the bed, while Shu came closer cautiously, wary for any signs of a wandering spirit. Seiji remained unconscious, and rain continued to fall outside, thunder clapping distantly. Touma sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed and took his friend's hand.

He nearly leapt back when he realized Seiji's skin was warm.

The next moment, violet eyes slid slowly, wearily open, and Seiji sat up in a daze, looking about at everyone gathered around him. His gaze came to rest on Touma, who was grinning broadly.

"Touma," Seiji breathed in a voice hoarse with disuse. The name seemed to break the barrier holding all the tension stagnant in the room, and it split heartily, giving way to a flood of relief and happiness. Touma and Seiji embraced each other, soon pummeled by the other ecstatic warriors in the room, and the great pile of joyful bodies was watched by an amused Kujuurou as he ducked to evade flying arms and friendly punches.

JLTJLTJLTJLT

After the initial hugs and slapping of shoulders, Touma helped Seiji to stand on his blood-starved legs, but as soon as he got circulation going in them again, he was moving as easily as he had before all this had happened. He explained to everyone what had happened over the course of the past few days, and apologized profusely for causing everyone so much inconvenience. Of course, the apologies had been denied, scoffed at, and even earned Seiji a few scolds over Shin's delicious dinner. They were his friends, he had been assured, that was what they were there for.

Kujuurou stayed for dinner that night. He called Kayura, Jirougorou, Naotoki, and Toshitada over to celebrate Seiji's awakening. The Troopers were not the only ones who felt a part of them was missing; Kujuurou felt that he was whole again. Seiji's illness had made a strange void in him that he had not felt since before Arago came to him with the offer of power and richness. He knew that the other Masho were feeling the emptiness through him, at least to some small degree. Kujuurou counted himself lucky that he was so well-suited to help with Seiji's predicament; the special circumstances made the situation even more dire.

Seiji slept late the next few days, assuring everyone nothing else was wrong with him, but he only needed to rest his body and let it recuperate fully. He had almost been entirely dead physically, and a renewed body would need some time to regain stamina. He had not really realized he was still sleeping so late, but his body simply would not let him be up and running with the sun directly after such an experience. He stayed out every night to watch the sun set. He had gained a new appreciation for it.

So Touma found himself out after his friend again, looking high and low for Seiji to bring him back inside. He was not at his usual perch atop the roof, watching as the sun peeked out from behind the black-topped mountains. Touma reached out briefly for his calm, pure familiarity, and found it.

He was careful to be surreptitious, and to wait and watch what Seiji would do. They were back at the area where Seiji had first tried to kill himself, far before the problem with Shikaisen had progressed as horribly as it had. He was dressed in a jacket and slacks, impeccable, as Seiji always was, and the orange light of the sun made him into a slender silhouette amongst the blackened trees. He looked much milder than he had on that night.

He was standing, facing the great tree which had once held the tool of his suicide, and looking at it as if he were making reconciliation with the forest. Tenderly, he reached out, stroking the great, aged trunk, and Touma felt the whole place lifted up again. The ties Seiji had severed before he fell into a state of limbo, the ties he had severed to make himself all the less part of their world and all the more part of the next, were reaffirmed, and if possible stronger than they had been before. The warrior of Korin smiled, warmly and beatifically, and then closed his eyes with a degree of relief and leaned his head forward to rest on the trunk of the great sentinel. After a few moments, Touma felt permitted to reveal himself.

"Seiji," he called softly, and the warrior of Grace looked up slowly. "Dinner is almost ready. Nasuti wants you to come back to the house."

Seiji smiled again, looking glad at this small, seemingly routine occurrence. "All right." His violet eyes focused on his shoes for a moment, and then back to Touma. "Touma," he began carefully, "I wanted to thank you for coming after me that night. I was so convinced that this would end with my death-"

Touma found he did not want Seiji to continue, so he reached forward and grabbed Seiji's hand. He had an odd habit of doing that lately, just to feel how warm it was. Seiji looked at him with something between gratitude and sorrow, but his expression changed to surprise when Touma pulled him closer. Seiji was confused as Touma reached up and touched his cheek, traced his jaw with a finger, as he had done for his bedridden friend days earlier, and savored the warmth he felt. As Touma's hand came to rest on the nape of his neck, Seiji abruptly understood.

Touma was thinking clearly. He really was. He had thought long and hard about what he had to do regarding his relationship with his best friend, and he knew it had become something more, at least to him. It was something that would have to be dealt with. That was the logical standpoint.

What was illogical was everything else.

"Touma-" Seiji started to say something, he was not really sure what, but he was silenced as Touma bent down and their lips met, chastely and softly. It lasted only a moment. Seiji covered his mouth with his fingers, a delicate, exploratory gesture. Touma knew he probably was not sure what to think.

"You're welcome."

Seiji looked up into Touma's blue eyes, and a number of things occurred to him. There were a few

more things he needed to think about, and a great deal of emotions to settle, but one thing was very, suddenly clear to him.

In a sudden burst of happiness, he threw his arms around Touma's neck. It was more a declaration than a gesture, and it made Seiji feel vibrant enough to take on the world; his illness seemed to vanish. Touma's arms encircled him, fondly and protectively, and they only stood there, smiles on their faces. They savored the thing passing between them, something that could sustain them for the days, months, and years to come. A new warmth, a very strong one.

JLTJLTJLTJLT

Only made a few little changes. I think I'm happy with this. The Final Chapter of Aftermath! Dun da da dun!

Thanks to WyndShard, Jess, Celesta SunStar (my first reviewer), and Split Persona. JC and Kathrine, you guys are wonderful. Thanks for your reviews!


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